


A Pretty Whatever Thing

by Hiflneim (SignedSealedAndDigitized)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Allusions to...you know, Banter, Choose Your Own Adventure, Flirting, Generally Light Tone, Humour, Likely pretty plot-heavy, Maybe also actually some...you know, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Slow Burn, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:32:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignedSealedAndDigitized/pseuds/Hiflneim
Summary: You receive an invitation to attend a gala attended by the city's elite, including the majority of the world-famous Avengers team. Now, granted, it's probably because you work for the venue as a public relations specialist and event coordinator, but hey, who'd pass up a ticket like that? After some innocent party hijinks leave you down for the count, you find yourself far closer to a certain pair of deities than you ever thought you'd be. Chance, or the Norns' work?Please note that this is a (sort of) choose-your-own adventure: there are two parallel storylines, and you choose which to read!(I yanked the start of this from a short piece compendium I started a few days ago if it seems familiar.)





	1. Chapter 1: The Gala (Intro)

####  The Gala

 

How you managed an invitation to this gala you’d never fully know. You’d initially assumed that it was because of work, but you couldn’t find any of your coworkers around, so that argument was worn pretty thin after a lap or two of the ballroom. You were self-conscious at your lack of status for a bit, what with being in a room full of famous people and all, but quickly adopted the best mentality to have in such a situation: fuck it, and also hooray for free drinks.

 

Still, when you took your first flute of champagne, you walked while sipping at it, orbiting the perimeter of the room so nobody would ask you whose kid you were or who you worked for only for you to reply with ‘the venue.’

 

Two drinks in and you were comfortable enough to stay in one place for a few minutes at once. You had the nagging excited-little-kid-in-the-back-of-your-mind urge to try to sneak a few photos of some of the more notable attendees, but luckily, quickly shelved that desire. To take photos of people without bothering to walk up and introduce yourself first was a little pathetic, and if you had a say in the matter, you’d prefer not coming across that way.

 

Some random guy walked up to you at one point and struck up a conversation. It took a solid fifteen minutes for you to realize it was flirting; damn your ability to maintain decent conversations at parties without putting in any effort into considering the repercussions.

 

“So, can I ask you out to dinner sometime?”

 

“Oh, uh…” you laughed weakly. “Sure, I guess.” He seemed nice enough, had a cool-sounding job in the biotech industry, and you’d entertain the offer for now, anyway, as long as he wasn’t going to insist on becoming your best buddy for the night. “Hand me your phone?”

 

He complied and you typed in your number and typed in your contact name as ‘(F/N) from Gala’.

 

When he took the phone back he chuckled. “Very descriptive, I like it.”

 

“Thanks. Now, if you don’t mind too much, I’m gonna go mingle for a while. Work obligations, you know.”

 

“No trouble at all,” he said with a smile. “Hope to see you soon.”

 

You nodded and grabbed a cocktail from a waiter as you walked away.

 

Over time, your route through the party grew braver. You made a game of walking close enough to the most famous guests to catch bits of their conversations.

 

Five drinks in and you had the chutzpah to walk up to Thor.

 

“I’ll have you know I’m pretty into Norse mythology- oh wait, fuck, should I call it history?”

 

He smiled apologetically. “That probably  _ would _ be more correct, yes.”

 

“Ugh, wow, I’m sorry-” You cut yourself off, holding up a hand. “Waitwaitwait- I’ll make it up to you with a joke.”

 

He raised his tankard in a ‘go on, then’ gesture.

 

“Okay, okay, hang on-” you drained the rest of your drink, not that there was much left in your glass at that point. “What do you say...when you fall off a fjord?”

 

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Hm?”

 

“FJUCK!”

 

You both laughed harder that you should at that.

 

“Oh, I like you,” he said through leftover laughter, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of his eye. “You’re fun. What do you do?”

 

“Oh, I work here. Not like waitstaff or anything, because this sort of party is way not what I’m used to. I do more, like, kinda PR-y, event-y stuff for them, and I’m also realizing that I could probably explain this waaaaaay better to you in a few hours.”

 

“Oh, but what’s the fun in that?” He plucked two more glasses from a tray as they passed and handed one to you. “Come, let us make the most of this rare event.”

 

“Alright, if you insist.”

 

You followed him around for a while, feeling kind of awkward but mostly just pleased with yourself for being friendly for a change. Plus you’d made the god of thunder laugh at one of your shitty jokes; this would later be catalogued as one of your top-tier lifetime accomplishments. 

 

Seven drinks in and you were up there with the drunkest you’d been that year. At some point, they swapped out the initially classy cocktail party soundtrack for more traditional ‘drunk people would like to party’ music. You’d taken off your heels and tossed them into the growing pile where most of the ladies in attendance had been shedding theirs as the party wore on. A few songs in and you were full-on dancing (an EXTREME rarity). This didn’t last, though, and soon you exited the dance floor and returned to your new party buddy.

 

“Hello again. That’s enough of that for me for a long damned time.”

 

“You were quite good. Very...free. Very loose.”

 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Oh boy, that’s reassuring.” You turned back to the shoe pile. “Oh man I’m not even going to  _ try _ to find those.”

 

“Those what?”

 

“Um, shoes. See?” You pointed to your bare feet, then to the mountain of platforms, stilettos, pumps, et cetera. “Shoe pile.”

 

“Good that I’m not classy and didn’t wear tights, though, or they’d be  _ alllllll _ ripped up by now.”

 

Suddenly the recognizable timbre of Tony Stark issued forth from one of the seating areas to your left. “Avengers, hey!” Thor ushered you to follow him over. You gave a weak wave to a handful of very famous superheroes seated on a few low couches and chairs around a drinks table.

 

“Round of shots for the team. Earth tradition, Point Break, in case you didn’t know. It’ll be fun.”

 

Thor took one of the tiny glasses, then glanced to you inquisitively, almost egging you on. You looked at him, furrowed your brows, looked at the glass for a few seconds. You heard someone ask ‘who’s she?’ and smirked. You glanced back to Thor.

 

“Now see, I know what this is gonna do, it’s gonna take me to the edge and then it’s like a fifty-fifty chance whether I’m gonna be the  _ perfect _ amount of drunk or  _ just  _ over the limit.”

 

He nodded. “I see. What does ‘just over the limit’ lead to?”

 

You shrugged exaggeratedly. “Don’t really know, hasn’t happened too much. Shall we find out?”

 

He chuckled. “One more, please.”

 

After a very brief toast from Tony, you took the shot quickly enough that there was barely any afterburn (although, to be fair, you were pretty smashed at that point). 

 

Everything got a bit fuzzy from then on out. Some of the guests who actually had places to be started leaving, and eventually, the party had shrunk to about half of what it originally was.

 

“This is soooo much better; you can actually hear people when you talk to them,” you said a little louder than was necessary considering the point you’d just made. You recognized this and added in a softer tone: “Way better. On that note, I am going to go lie down until I can walk in a straight line, which might be a while.”

 

Thor smiled obligingly. “Good plan.”

 

All of the couches were close to full occupancy but one, on which the raven-haired, black-clad brother of Thor slumped sulkily. You waved as you headed over and he visibly scoffed. You ignored it as you sat down next to him. 

 

“Well hey, this is cool, I’ve been hanging out with your brother all night.” You tucked some loose hairs back into place.

 

“It certainly sounds that way.”

 

You detected, but ignored the snark, and reached for a full glass of clear liquid sitting on the table. “This wouldn’t happen to be water, would it?” You dipped a fingertip in and brought it to your mouth. “Absolutely it isn’t.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes and slid another glass your way. “This one is.”

 

You looked at it quizzically, then at him, and repeated this gesture a few times.

 

His stony expression broke and he cracked a smirk at the absurdity of the gesture. “What?”

 

You pushed the glass a few inches away with two fingertips. “Uhhh, to be honest I dunno if I should trust you, I guess. You’re supposed to be super bad right? Didn’t you try to like, kill the world a few years ago?”

 

“You’re partly correct.”

 

“Wait, then why’re you here?”

 

“To be guarded.”   
  


You furrowed your brows. “That seems like a really fucking stupid idea.”

 

He laughed through his teeth; it sounded like steam escaping. “Well said.”

 

You smiled at the laugh.  _ Made two gods laugh in one night: check. _

 

“I haven’t done anything to the water. It was given to me; no alcohol this evening allowed as per Stark.”

 

“Ah,” you said with a sagelike nod. “In that case-” you reached for the glass and drained it quickly, then set it down on the table on a spare cocktail napkin. “I should probably take a few measures to make my future self feel a little less awful now that I’m partied out.”

  
  


“I saw you speaking to another man a few hours ago. It seemed as though your future self is not yet ‘partied out’.”

 

“Nonono...it’s jus-” you hiccupped. “Excuse me. It’s just easier to be nice to people is all. Plus, I mean, like, I’ll go out to dinner with a guy. That’s a pretty whatever thing.”

 

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Where I’m from sharing a private meal with another is not such a ‘whatever thing’.”

 

You opened your eyes wide. “Oh, really? Oh, yikes…Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. Anyway, though, hang on, you were watching me? That’s a little suspect.”

 

“You know, for someone incapable of standing up straight, you seem to maintain quite a steady grasp of language every other sentence or so.”

 

“Thank you, thank you, I’ve been called a pedantic drunk many times. But do explain.”

 

“The way you were circling the edge of the ballroom like some sort of raptor amused me.”

 

“Fair enough.” Suddenly you remembered your abandoned shoes and your face fell.

 

“What is it?”

 

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. “My shoes are somewhere in there.” You gestured loosely toward the still sizeable pile with your free hand. “That’s gonna be quite the scavenger hunt.”

 

He looked over at the shoes and hummed his acknowledgement. “Why bother wearing such ridiculous things if only to abandon them after an hour?”

 

“It’s just a thing. Wildly uncomfy shoes are but a small price to pay to look fancy-slash-sexy for a while, and then when everyone’s drunk nobody cares anymore. What, they don’t do that where you’re from?”

 

“Perhaps they do. I hadn’t noticed, though.”

 

“My new friend!” Thor exclaimed as he made his way to the couch. “I see you’ve met my brother. Watch him now, he’s a sneaky one.”

 

Loki simpered at Thor for a moment before letting his face fall to a mild glower.

 

“He seems okay,” you replied. “He gave me some water and stuff.”

 

“Some wa- oh, I see.” He scratched at his beard and glanced at the glass on the cocktail napkin. “That water, I take it?”

 

“Mhm. Why?”

 

“Well, that water was prepared specially with a dose of an Asgardian sleeping potion, you see, to act as a sleep aid so that my brother might be a little more manageable this evening.” He glanced to Loki, who was, naturally, fuming at the thought. “Easy to be on your best behavior while asleep, after all.”

 

“Oh, I getcha. So, when am I supposed to start feeling it?”

 

“Oh, quite soon after drinking it, I should say.”

 

Loki leaned back then, with his arms behind his head. “You do realize that a mortal needs a far smaller dose for it to be effective, I assume?”   
  


Thor continued scratching at his beard, more fervently this time. His eyes were fraught with worry, and you noticed.  “I do realize. You don’t think it’ll-”

 

“What, kill her?” Loki chuckled and glanced at you to gauge your reaction. You only glowered...and then fell straight forward as the potion took hold. You heard Loki’s breath forcibly escape his body as your head collided with his chest.

 

Seemed your shoes would have to wait.


	2. ~Author's Note/Explanation~

So, here's the main deal:

From here on out, pick a brother to stick with, and then select chapters marked with their name (i.e. Chapter 2: Title (Thor)). Chapters will be presented with two chapters per chapter if that makes any sense at all (like 1A and 1B, basically).

Once you're through with one storyline, feel free to return to the other one and start all over again; rest assured that they will be different enough to hold interest. Note that this isn't a standard choose your own adventure insofar as there's only really one choice at the beginning, and then you follow the alternate plot for whichever romance you'd like. So it's really more of a two-parallel-stories-presented-side-by-side-in-one-document-for-easy-navigation. ...but that didn't flow quite so well.

Anyhow, happy reading and comment if you see fit. First pair of chapters should be up soon.

-Hiflneim


	3. Chapter 2 (Thor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, Thor version.

Thinking back as far as you could, you’d never woken up as instantaneously and completely as you did that morning. It was as though a switch had been flipped: totally asleep, click, totally awake. 

 

You sat up in a bed located smack in the middle of somewhere that was absolutely not your apartment. It was incredibly spacious, remarkably comfortable, and also, if the wrinkles in the bedclothes were anything to go by, had been all yours for the night. As you took in more of the room, noting a few personal touches here and there, you really couldn’t believe your luck. There was no just-woke-up fogginess, no compulsion to stretch, not even a hangover. Hell, you weren’t even thirsty. 

 

You folded down the bedding. The outfit you wore to the gala was gone, and a very oversized grey t-shirt hung from you in its place. You’d find your clothes a moment later--shoes and all, you might add--folded up and placed on a chair in the corner of the room.

 

Even standing up proved no trouble at all; the rush-of-blood-to-the-head sensation was completely absent. You walked over to a large wall of windows. Judging from the cool white, almost lilac quality of the sunlight cutting across the floor, it was still quite early, too. A few more glances at room decor and you’d formulated a confident guess that you were in Thor’s, yes,  _ the _ Thor’s, room.

 

The whole thing was downright befuddling. Uniquely spectacular, too, of course--what a story it’d make for future dinner tables--for a self-proclaimed average citizen like you. Mostly befuddling, though.

 

You regarded a small golden statue placed on one of the shelves for a moment, then took a few steps away from the window, yanked off the t-shirt (which seemed a bit too informal, even considering the circumstances) and put the gala getup back on (which seemed a bit too formal, but oh well). Just as you’d finished zipping up the last bit of zipper there was a knock at the door.

 

“Yeah- uh, yes?” you called out.  _ Wow, not even groggy morning voice. _

 

His distinct, rich timbre carried through the door easily. “May I come in?”

 

“Absolutely, please do.”

 

He opened the door and immediately smiled, apparently pleased at your once-again-conscious state. “Good morning.”

 

You suddenly felt very shy, and strongly regretted not making the bed. “Good morning.”

 

He didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness or, if he did, was very politely ignoring it. “How do you feel?”

 

Your eyes widened and you brought a hand to your face. “Spectacular. It’s amazing. I feel better than I would’ve had I gone to bed completely sober.”

 

He nodded knowingly. “The effects of that particular sleeping potion are not unlike being incredibly intoxicated, save for any standard ill effects. Well-” He tossed a hand into the air. “You know, ill effects for humans.”

 

“Blackout with no hangover...” You reached back to tie your hair into some kind of remotely presentable ponytail, half-bun, knot, something, and were happy to find a hair tie in the pocket of your jacket where you’d stashed it yesterday. “Amazing.” You shook your head a few times to test the hairstyle; it held well enough. “Do you not get hangovers? Deities..?” You smiled to yourself. “Sorry, I’m blanking on the appropriate term. Asgardians?”

 

“Asgardians…incredibly strong and powerful gods...” he shot you a cheeky glance and you smirked amicably. “Whichever you prefer. And no, we don’t. Although that may well be a matter of acquired endurance.” 

 

You recalled the pacing and effortlessness of his drinking last night and nodded understandingly. “I see. Well, at any rate, I’m jealous. On to the more immediately pressing topic at hand, though, thank you-” You gestured vaguely to the room. “For all of this. You really didn’t have to, and it was incredibly generous that you did.”

 

“My pleasure. Anything for such a charming kindred spirit as yourself.”

 

“Oh, we’re kindred spirits, huh?”

 

He furrowed his brows in mock astonishment. “Absolutely! You like to drink, I like to drink, what more could one ask for?”

 

You shrugged, nodded. “Fair enough, I’ll grant you that.” You crossed your arms. “If I could ask one non-sequitur of a question, though, care to enlighten me on the voyage back here from the party? I’m obviously a little out of the loop on the whole thing.”

 

“Oh, certainly, certainly. If you’d like breakfast while I recount the rest of the evening, though, there’s quite an assortment in the kitchen.”

 

“Sounds great. Thank you again.”

 

He smiled. “Enough thanks, it is my brother’s and my fault that you ended up here in the first place.”

 

Well, you couldn’t really argue with that.

 

\-----

 

Over the course of an absolutely lovely breakfast, you learned that after staying at the party with you until everyone else had gone home (to ensure that you got your shoes back, which you thought was incredibly sweet), you’d been carted back to the Avengers Tower by the god himself...well, the god himself and also one of Tony Stark’s personal drivers. Upon arrival--and this brought a bit of a blush to your cheeks as you heard it--you’d been taken upstairs to Thor’s room, where ‘Natasha’ had undressed you, wrangled your unconscious frame into a borrowed shirt, and put you to bed. It was quite a chivalrous detail (although, if you were quite honest with yourself, it might have been a  _ little _ better had Thor himself done the wrangling), and you made sure to thank him profusely once the tale was fully told. He, of course, reminded you that your thanks, while kind, were unnecessary. 

 

After taking the last sip of his coffee, Thor sat down the empty mug on the counter with a crack. He sighed in satisfaction, took a few peaceful moments of silence, then turned back to you. “You will come back to visit, I trust? So that we can ensure that there aren’t any latent side-effects from that concoction Loki gave to you?”

 

You popped a tangerine segment into your mouth, chewed thoughtfully for a moment, and swallowed. “I thought you’d said there weren’t any side effects..?” you replied, eyebrow raised.

 

He brought a hand to his chin. “Hm, I did say that, didn’t I...perhaps just for a drink then?”

 

You hid your excitement at the offer...somewhat. Perhaps it would be better to say you muffled it. “That I can do,” you replied, beaming. “And thank you again...even though you said it was unnecessary.” You took a sip of water in an attempt to play it cool. “But how will I reach you?”

 

He chuckled. “Natasha, of course, suspicious as she is, happened to look through your articles a bit last night.” Your eyebrows shot up in concern. “Just a precautionary measure, to ensure no ill intent.”

 

You raised a hand in reassurance. “No, no, I suppose I understand. Not really a common spot for civvies to hang out, I guess.”

 

“No,” he replied affably, “Not really.”

 

Breakfast over, you both stood from the counter. You quickly retrieved your coat and the rest of your things from the bedroom, and apologized for not making the bed on your way back out; he merely shook his head. 

 

Thor then personally guided you all of the way from the residential floor to the front entrance. He kept a hand lightly resting on your shoulder or the small of your back all the while, clearly making one hundred and ten percent sure that you really were okay and hadn’t somehow been faking it all morning. Once he seemed well and thoroughly satisfied that you were, in fact, okey-dokey, he led you to a car to take you home, and offered one last wave as you departed.


	4. Chapter 2 (Loki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, Loki version.

Your eyes flew open and you suddenly found yourself in a bed inches from not just known murderer, mischievous god, and overall bad guy Loki, but  _ awake _ known murderer, mischievous god, and overall bad guy Loki.

 

“Morning, pet.”

 

You didn’t blink. “Hi…” Your voice was small, but not  _ super _ terrified, which surprised you. After drinking this in for a moment, you slid up to a seated position...which you quickly regretted after realizing that you weren’t wearing a shirt. Bra, yes, shirt no. You messed with the sheets to gain a few inches of coverage back.

 

“Funny,” Loki mused without looking over, “They weren’t the undergarments I would’ve pictured you in…”

 

“Oh? Uh-” You didn’t really know how to respond. “Cool.” 

 

This response, of course, made  _ no _ sense, but who could blame you. 

 

However, once the realization that he’d likely already seen all there was to see hit, you stopped bothering with the sheet. You brought your forefinger and thumb to the bridge of your nose and pinched; not that you had any sort of hangover--amazingly, you felt fantastic despite the events of last night. No, this was just exasperation: exasperation at yourself, at the events of last night, but mostly exasperation having to start your day off with something so remarkably terrifying, irritating, and a little bit arousing all at once. 

 

You scratched at your ear and looked over at him just a little. He was lounging quite comfortably atop the bed, hands propped behind his head, and shirtless--just to make you that extra bit uncomfortable, so it seemed. “Where are my, uh, clothes?” you asked after clearing your throat. “Or any clothes, really?”

 

A smirk appeared on his lips and he turned a bit to face you. “Hm...I can’t seem to recall.”

 

You rolled your eyes, crossed your arms. “Give me a break. I’m not charming enough for you to tell me outright?”

 

He laughed a bit, glanced down as his chin fell, then back up. “No, but you’re far too beautiful to get dressed so quickly.”

 

You flopped back onto the bed. “Your arrogance is admirable, but useful it’s not; I  _ will _ make a dress out of this sheet if I need to.” You rolled onto your side and used an arm to prop yourself up. “However, considering the circumstances, that’s totally unnecessary, and I’d thank you to just tell me where the clothes are.” You rolled back onto you back. “I’ll be happy to parade around the room for them if that’s what you actually want; overstepping or not, you’re still better than two or three of my exes, and I know that I look great.”

 

He laughed through his nose. “And  _ I’m _ the arrogant one.”

 

“Hey,” you replied as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. “Just playing to the crowd. Now please-” You gestured to the room. “Where?”

 

He suddenly disappeared from view, then reappeared across the room and behind you. You turned at the sound of a drawer being opened.

 

“Your arrogance is not entirely ill-founded-” He craned his neck a bit (exaggerating, you thought). “At least not from this angle.” He smirked, disappeared again, then reappeared next to you and pressed them into your hands.

 

You grabbed hold of them, pulled away, and created a few steps of distance between you. They weren’t your clothes, you noticed, but looked normal enough: a pair of black pants and a grey shirt. You set them on the bed and started dressing. “How did you manage to convince them to let me stay with you if you’re the one being monitored?”

 

“Oh, I have my ways.”

 

“I can buy that,” you said from behind the half-pulled-on shirt. You paused to yank it down the rest of the way and adjusted the sleeves a little. “Furthermore, I guess, what quarrel do you have with me?”

 

“Quarrel?” His face was shrouded in false innocence.

 

“Quarrel, problem…” You let your hands fall to your sides. “Why am I here, why did you want me here, why are you messing with me? Though I guess I can probably answer the last one pretty easily.”

 

“Life quickly grows dull when you find yourself held on a mortal world against your will.”

 

You nodded solemnly. “Make sense.” He shot you a look. “Well, it does in  _ concept _ . Anyway-” you began to pull on the pants. “What’s your plan? What’s the long con?”

 

“You, my dear, are going to help me escape.”

 

“Oh yeah?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “And how’s that going to work?”

 

He disappeared and reappeared once more, arriving in front of you nearly nose-to-nose, glowering. He held the expression for a good while, then finally broke away with a simper. “Oh, Valhalla, you actually believe I would need the help of someone like you to escape this place.”

 

You looked back with an expression that was half snide smirk, half extreme irritation. 

 

“You got me.”


	5. Chapter 3 (Loki)

Your eyes flew open.

 

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

 

_ What?  _ You closed your eyes tightly enough to feel pressure, then opened them again. You looked around. A room, not your own; a dresser; a bed; a set of silken sheets; a god standing at the bedside. You blinked again.

 

“I already woke up,” you said, sounding, once again, entirely lucid as soon as you spoke.

 

“Hmm…” Loki clicked his tongue in frustration and you turned to him at the sound. “I fear you’ve met with an undesired side effect.”

 

“What?” You propped yourself up with your elbows, keeping the sheets in place by tucking them under your arms. “I  _ didn’t _ wake up?”

 

He shook his head, let his shoulders drop a bit. You frowned.

 

“I see…” you muttered. “So...what, I dreamt all of that?”

 

His focused gaze shot down to align with yours, but he sounded almost concerned. “All of what?” 

 

The tone was innocent enough to make you suspicious. Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about it, but you maintained direct eye contact anyway as you explained. “Uhhhh, walking around the room in my underwear because you wouldn’t just give me my clothes back.”

 

“Oh...I see.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and took a few steps toward the end of the bed. “You certainly aren’t clothed, you’ll find.”

 

You pulled the sheets back. The lingerie you’d worn last night. “Huh.” You started to think that the whole incident had been a dream after all. It made enough sense, you supposed, what with a copious amount of alcohol and memories of beautifully bedecked partygoers freshly nestled in your subconscious. Loki’s behavior was still a little embarrassing to think about, though, even if it was only imagined.  _ They weren’t the undergarments I would’ve pictured you in. _

 

“What is it, my dear?”

 

You glanced back up at him. “Oh, nothing important.”

 

“Hm?” he hummed, looking quizzical. “So say you, maybe, but the hue of your complexion belies that.”

 

You ignored the statement as much as you could and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Really, nothing important. Just a ridiculous dream.”

 

“Ridiculous?”

 

You nodded. “Absolutely. A product of a brain corrupted by…” You searched for the right word and came up empty-handed. “Well, a lot of things.”

 

He took a few silent strides and was suddenly  _ very _ close again. “But ridiculous?”

 

You looked away, looked back, and repeated the process. “Yeah, in a way. Look, could I get dressed?”

 

“By all means. Your clothing is in the dresser over there.” He gestured to the piece of furniture with a nod of his head. You knew it already, but fully reclined again and reached behind your back  _ just _ to make sure.

 

You sat up, letting the sheet fall, and frowned at him. Well, half-frowned, half-glowered “I  _ did _ already wake up, didn’t I?”

 

Loki brought a hand to his chin and laughed. “Whatever gives you that idea?”

 

“I clip this bra on the third hook, not the second.”

 

His face fell.

 

“Yeah.” You smirked and stood up. “Thought you were being clever, huh?” you called out as you padded across the cool floor. “And I’d buy it. Why wouldn’t I? I know fuck-all about magic. But-” You stopped in your tracks and whirled around to face him. “You seem to forget that I am absurdly suspicious of absolutely everything and see the worst in people first.”

 

“A practical way to live, I suppose, but not without its problems,” he replied. He hadn’t moved from his place since you called him out. Had you  _ actually _ surprised him?

 

You placed your hands on your hips. “What’s your play?”

 

“My ‘play’?”

 

“Yeah, why play it like I was asleep again? I would’ve kept parading around like this if you’d just asked.”

 

He began to walk toward you, slowly, clearly still a little off-guard. “I very much doubt that, pet; you’re far too stubborn.”

 

“Ah!” You pointed at him. “See? Don’t be hypocrite; a suspicious life is a practical life.” You headed to the dresser, pulled open the designated drawer, and reached in. “Ohhh, you picked a different outfit this time, though.” You smirked, looked back at him. “What, didn’t like the black and grey? Thought you’d throw in a little color?” You held up a dark green sundress. “I’m not really the dress type, though; kinda liked the other look better.” You tossed it over your head and slid into it. “Thank you, though…” You smoothed a few wrinkles out of the skirt. “...even though the fact that this is exactly my size is reinvigorating my suspicions a little. Also- you still haven’t answered my question.”

 

He disappeared, reappeared in front of you- that quietly thrilling maneuver of his so predominantly featured in your ‘dream’ had made its appearance once again. 

 

He reached forward and slid the left strap of your bra beneath the slightly wider strap of the dress. 

 

“I think you know the answer.”

 

Your eyebrows shot up in concern.

 

He read your face, smirked, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “No, no, it merely came undone when I removed the shirt.” He looked away. “The, er- the second time.”

**Author's Note:**

> All comments welcome; trying this structure out for the first time and I'd like some feedback.


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